


I Think I Might Be Sinking

by sportasmile



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Past Sexual Abuse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sportasmile/pseuds/sportasmile
Summary: Title from the lyrics of Going To California by Led Zeppelin.A pre-canon one-shot in which Hyde and Buddy are boyfriends and making out, and Hyde's emotionally unavailable. Some fluff, but mainly angst. Mentions of past sexual assault toward the end.





	I Think I Might Be Sinking

    They'd had sex plenty of times and by then, an unfailing routine had been perfected; Hyde would pin Buddy to the wall, kiss him and work down to his neck while Buddy pushed his hands up Hyde's t-shirt. Then Hyde work at Buddy's buttons, still kissing his neck. Hyde focused mainly on his neck, rarely looking at his face. Almost every time though, Buddy would whine to be kissed, often wordlessly. So Hyde would roughly kiss him, running his tongue everywhere he could. If Buddy tried to grind against him sooner than Hyde would like, he'd hold Buddy's hips to tease him. Hyde was dominant and wouldn't want it any other way.

    Hyde didn't mind the formula and in fact, hardly noticed it. To him, sex was almost always an detached, unfeeling series of motions that he had to go through. Sure, he had feelings for Buddy and a lot of them, too. But every bone in his body tried to deny the idea of caring about somebody. Caring about Buddy only meant it'd hurt when Buddy left. And through experience, Hyde learned that people never stayed.

    He told himself it didn't matter, that the only thing that really mattered in sex was technique and experience. People were stupid if they thought love or even friendship were required to truly enjoy sex. Only idiots saw the difference between sex and 'making love.' Waiting for marriage was only for masochistic morons who wanted to viciously deny themselves of basic physical pleasures. For the most part, he managed to convince himself of these things.

    Hyde and Buddy were just beginning their routine but his mind was already wandering. He didn't exactly know what he was thinking of or if he was even thinking at all. As long as Buddy enjoyed it, he'd keep going.

    He bit at Buddy's collar bone and rolled his hips against his, causing Buddy to squirm. Even if he tried to deny feeling anything, he couldn't help but smirk when Buddy reacted so wonderfully. Hyde chocked it up to pure hormones, telling himself that he'd enjoy these reactions from anybody.

    Hyde barely sighed into Buddy's neck, a choreographed, controlled, masculine sound. After two years of plenty experience, he'd perfected the perfect ratio of vocalization. Every little thing he did, he'd done before.

    Hyde pressed his hand against Buddy's hard-on through his jeans, the same amount of pressure every time. His routine was safe and made sense. He could trust it. Besides, he didn't normally have sex with the same person twice. Most of the time, they didn't even remember each other's names. They never seemed to mind his dissociation or lack of eye contact. They were normally just going through motions, too.

    For the most part, Buddy played his role well, too. After they had done it a few times, he got used to the pattern. He followed along, rolled his hips at the right time, anticipated Hyde's movements. He knew the routine so well that sometimes he'd even moan before he was touched.

    It was seemingly hollow sex with hidden feelings, and Hyde swore to himself that he didn't mind. He tried to push away the guilt in his chest, the knowledge that Buddy deserved better. He told himself that as long as Buddy was moaning under his touch, he didn't need anything else. Hyde knew better, though. He knew he wanted to run his hands along every inch of Buddy and whisper how much he cared about him in his ear, tell him how beautiful he was. Hyde wanted to know he was safe to feel something. 

    He buried his face deep in Buddy's collarbone and tried not to think anymore. He rolled his hips and thumbed one of Buddy's nipples. All Hyde wanted was for Buddy to keep breathing needy whines and shuddering when Hyde teased him. And he did. He was absolutely adorable.

    Then Hyde froze.

    Buddy reached lower to palm at Hyde through his jeans and all the muscles in Hyde's body tensed. It shouldn't have surprised him. Buddy kept going, kept rubbing and Hyde choked a low, breathy moan. He didn't mean to make the sound and he wished he could take it back. It wasn't smooth or controlled at all.

    Hyde wondered if to Buddy, he seemed agitated or just really into it. In reality, he was both. Buddy was fantastic. Hyde try his best not to lean into Buddy's hand and he did a decent job. Every time he tried to regain composure though, Buddy would press just right. He wondered where Buddy got so damn good at this. Hyde was pretty sure that Buddy was doing this on purpose, trying to make Hyde's facade crumble. A few people had tried before too, but none of them were successful. Hyde didn't want Buddy to be successful, either.

    "You're impatient," Hyde hissed and unbuckled Buddy's belt without needing to look. He needed to reassert dominance. "You can wait, can't you?" He sucked at a spot on Buddy's neck.

    Buddy chuckled and Hyde could feel the laugh in Buddy's neck, against his mouth. Buddy rubbed firm circles into the hard-on underneath Hyde's jeans. Hyde tried to hide a moan, and it became more of a choked breath. This was proving to be more difficult.

    The truth was, Buddy's hand felt amazing. He felt amazing in general. Hyde sort of wanted to lose composure and to show something, anything to Buddy. He wanted to let Buddy wreck him and make him whine like he'd done to Buddy. But Hyde couldn't allow himself to be that blatantly vulnerable. He wasn't stupid.

    "I want you," Buddy whispered. That's the way Buddy said it. He never said 'it.' He always said 'you.' The thing about Buddy was that he wasn't like Hyde at all. He was sweet and careful, and filled with all sorts of feelings. He was gentle. Hyde didn't want to be ridiculous or dramatic, didn't want to tell himself that he'd never been touched gently. In that moment though, he couldn't think of somebody as delicate as Buddy.

    It only made Hyde angrier at himself. He knew it was messed up, but he didn't think he deserved to feel good. He didn't deserve to be touched gently. Hell, he didn't need to be. Only weak people required gentleness and he wasn't weak.

    And still, the way Buddy touched him was so tender that it made Hyde almost cry. He wanted more, not even in a sexual way. He just wanted Buddy to touch him forever. He wanted Buddy to love him forever.

    He pushed away that thought as fast as he could and refocused on the task at hand. "You're so needy," Hyde whispered. He didn't pull away from Buddy's shoulder. He couldn't show his face. He would've liked to think his expression was aloof, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't take that risk. "You want it that bad?"

    "Yes," Buddy groaned and moved his hands to Hyde's hips. "C'mon."

    Hyde sighed at the loss of touch. He couldn't tell how much of it was lust and how much of it was relief. He regained composure as quickly as he could. "Just wait. You can wait, can't you?" After slipping his shades into his t-shirt, Hyde moved back up to Buddy's lips.

    Buddy kissed Hyde so perfectly that Hyde thought he'd die. Everything about Buddy was too good. Not just his body, but him. Hyde didn't deserve a single bit of him.

    Hyde rolled his hips against Buddy's and moved him toward the bed. Just when Hyde thought the routine had returned to normal and they could continue as scheduled, it changed again. Buddy switched them while kissing 

    Buddy lightly pushed Hyde on the chest to get him to lie flat on the bed, sitting on top of him and deepening the kiss. The act seemed harmless and it was completely harmless in intention, but Hyde tensed and felt his heart rate double.

    He flinched and broke the kiss almost as soon as he was laid down on the bed. His breathing was heavy for a multitude of reasons and he tried to work on slowing it down. He couldn't look Buddy in the eye. He wasn't quite frozen, but close to it. Buddy froze, too.

    Hyde knew it was just Buddy and that Buddy was a good guy and probably wouldn't hurt him, but he could never trust this position. It wasn't right. None of the situation was right. It wasn't right to have a routine for sex, it wasn't right to fear eye contact, and it wasn't right to feel like a kid again when your kind of boyfriend sits in your lap and kisses you.

    Hyde wasn't mean to be on the bottom. He wasn't meant to be vulnerable in any way. His hands were shaking and his heart was racing, and even he couldn't tell himself it was just with anger. He had no reason to be scared. Buddy was a good guy and he should be able to trust him. But Hyde was anxious, anyway.

    He didn't know what to say or even if he should say something. He didn't want to make Buddy worry, but he figured it was too late for that. Buddy sat frozen above Hyde, watching him. A silence hung between them that seemed to last for hours.   

    "Steven?"

    Buddy called him that all the time and Hyde normally didn't mind. His previous short term girlfriends called him Steven, too, and he normally liked it, even. Right then was different, though. Right then it reminded him of being fifteen. 

    "Get off me." At first, it was like a surprised whisper. Like he didn't even know what he wanted, but he knew he had to tell Buddy 

    "What?"

    "I told you to get the fuck off me." Hyde kept his words as stable and cold as possible. The last thing he wanted to be viewed as was some weak victim, but that's what he was making himself out to be.

    Buddy didn't get off right away. He just stayed frozen. "Hyde pushed Buddy's chest, significantly harder than he intended.

    Buddy scrambled off, sort of almost fell off. He didn't say anything, just watched Hyde. Hyde couldn't tell if it was with fear or anger. He didn't look at his face to find out.

    Even in the moment, he knew he wasn't angry at Buddy. He knew he was angry at himself, the world that screwed him over, Edna's ex-boyfriend, and a whole lot of other things. Still, he couldn't stop himself. He was filled with a rage that any action couldn't begin to describe. Buddy just happened to be standing in the way of it.

    Hyde sat up and slipped his shades back on. He needed them now more than ever. "Don't you ever fucking get on top of me again." He stood up. "Do you understand me?" He knew he wasn't really talking to Buddy. He was talking to a man who wasn't there. He shouldn't be plagued by this. He should be able to forget it.

    "Steven," Buddy murmured and slowly approached. He held out a hand for Hyde to hold. Hyde flinched away from his hand, though. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to look like some shaking little victim. He hated how Buddy must've been jumping to all sorts of conclusions. He figured Buddy was probably already wondering who raped him. Hyde hated how he'd given away his past that easily. He never wanted to tell a soul.

    Buddy's eyes went huge. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

    Hyde felt his chest go tight when Buddy said that. Buddy had no reason to be sorry because he didn't do anything wrong. There's no way he could've known.

    Maybe he wasn't apologizing, though. Maybe he was pitying Hyde and assuming things he didn't have the right to assume. "Leave me the fuck alone."

    "Please tell me what just happened," Buddy whispered.

    That made actual tears well up in Hyde's eyes, which made him want to scream at himself for being so weak. Hyde didn't know what to say. One minute, everything was great and the next minute, all he could think about was Edna's ex. He didn't know how to explain it because he couldn't explain it to himself.

    He walked out Buddy's door before he could find something to tell him. He'd patch it up later with Buddy. He'd find something to tell him, something vague, something that'd make Buddy hopefully forget it ever happened. 

    Hyde didn't want to think about what just happened and he certainly didn't want to explain it, either. He didn't want to be angry, anxious, or feel any emotions at all for that matter. He just wanted to drink.


End file.
